Contributor Posts

Our life is a shamble,
at least it is to me,
for we no longer talk freely.
You speak words, yes you do,
but there the same words,
that you say, over and over again.
Every few minutes you will say,
"I liked that place,
what was it called?",
not recalling anything
I'd told you before.
My patience has become strained,
as I repeat my answer again.
I do not say I told you that before.
Reminding myself, it's not
her fault, not in any way,
while I continue to see you,
slowly slipping, slipping away.

Writing can be hard,
so what can I say.
I had a stroke
on Martin King Day.
A minor one, he spoke
as I listened readily.
I saw half a word
in the paper I read.
The diagnosis was a TIA,
no damage, on this day.
When I asked about
what should be done
if another one came?
He said call Nine, one, one.

We had Liberty in a foreign port
and had to be back to ship by
12 Midnight, or Cinderella Liberty.
Returning to our ship prior to
2400 hours, or 12 midnight,
you would approach the ship
and do a hand salute to the stern
or rear of the ship, then a hand salute
to the Officer of the Deck, saying
"Requesting permission to come
aboard, Sir". Salute returned.
Then to your bunk, quietly undress,
clothes placed in your foot locker.
Climb into the suspended cot,
on to your mattress covered
by enclosing into a bag or as
we lovingly referred to as a
"Fart Sack." Pull the woolen
blanket over you and go to sleep.
Another day in Paradise,
courtesy of our Uncle Sam.

Looking out the window,
on this snowy, Winter day,
wondering if my writing skills
have gone away.
My mind is in fuzzy blur,
I need to go and look after her.

I get into bed;
you're already there.
Moving close,
you say to me,
"I love you".
Those words that
I hear are precious,
to me for I
hear them, not often.
It is great
when you say that
to me,
for then, what
I hear is
all it can be.
An expression of love
between man and wife,
who have been together
almost all our life.
I love you
my precious one
and will do so
until our life is done.

Long will I wonder.
Long will I care,
for you, in this life,
strange as it is.
To be with you always,
being your friend,
my love for you;
just you alone.
That's the way it
should be now,
in this day and age.
Just you and me
on the Worlds largest stage.

A new house, a new lawn,
Is where I'll begin.
Purchased a new house,
putting the lawn in.
Ground had been leveled,
seeded and watered again.
One morning I was surprised,
by lawn holes therein.
My first thought was a horse,
created all this din
but was a puppy Great Dane,
who was called Saladin.

She said to me,
"if I tell you to go,
would you just leave?
When you look at me,
I see the sadness, you feel
and know you'll be
better when I'm gone."
I said "Stop don't talk like that
for I am here for you,
no matter what you might do.
Please don't worry about me;
we will manage this, please agree."
She looked and nodded at me.

I wish I could see,
what she does,
through her brown eyes.
I can't, so therefor
I now must surmise.
She see's something else,
that she cannot describe,
which frustrates her, every way.
This disease is so cruel,
for her to live every day.
It is why she tells me
"I will soon be going away."

I didn't know; nothing was said,
at that moment. A sense of dread
fell over me. The news isn't good,
he said to me. I now understood,
when he said Lung Cancer, Stage three.

You talk to me often
when at the mall.
If I ask you a question
you say, "I don't recall."
I tell you, "I love you"
that's easy to say,
but you don't seem
to hear me and walk away.
The sadness then
comes over me
and I pray once again
for you not to see,
my sadness
for this time of our life
and its destiny.

As a young boy my only wish
was to grab some bait and go fish.
Fish down the long crooked stream
till a meadow with grasses tall,
to a spot, now called South Center Mall,
which at the time that was so merry,
was occupied by the Golden Arrow Dairy.